


Locked In and Delerious

by guineamania



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Gen, Injury, Trapped, awkward car spooning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 17:52:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4886110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guineamania/pseuds/guineamania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the "Trapped Together" prompt on my hurt comfort bingo and for the "awkward car spooning" prompt on One Million Words.<br/>Illya wakes to find himself trapped with a dead weight on his chest</p>
            </blockquote>





	Locked In and Delerious

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Запертые](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6894112) by [la_Distance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_Distance/pseuds/la_Distance)



Illya’s eyes inched open and he moaned through the pounding in his head. The last thing he remembered was infiltrating the warehouse and Napoleon was cracking the safe, then it just went dark. After lying there in the dark for a few moments, the pain in his head abated slightly and he could try and work out what was happening. To start up with his feet were tied and his arms were pinned against his back. Illya shuffled slightly to find he was laid on his side and in a confined space. A car boot, but they weren’t moving. The next thing he noticed was slightly more startling. There was a weight pressing against his chest, and the weight was breathing. In the darkness he couldn’t tell who it was but he could make a pretty good guess. “Solo,” Illya hissed but his partner didn’t stir. It was up to him to get them out of here before the driver realised they were awake, or decided to go somewhere taking them with him. After testing the bonds around his wrists, Illya managed to identify that they had tied them up with chains so he wouldn’t be able to break them; however their captors had not taken into account the fact that this car boot was very warm. Sweat dripped down his arms and after what felt like an eternity of shuffling and wiggling about, Illya managed to free his arms. Step 1 was complete.

Step two was to check his partner. He could tell that Napoleon's body was still warm and his breathing was laboured but thankfully still there; however the American's lack of awareness was worrying. It was a sign of a major head injury that could do some lasting damage if they didn't get out of this metal prison quickly. Although Gaby was the glue that held the team together, in the three months they had been working together Illya had become more attached to Napoleon. They did work together very well and Napoleon certainly was charming. This had also lead to an increase of protectiveness. Compared to the Russian giant, Napoleon was quite fragile and he much preferred to talk himself out of a situation instead of actually getting his hands dirty. It is ironic that this trait actually lead to him being beaten up more than if he started the fights himself. Now that Illya’s hands were free had could untie Napoleon’s, it took longer than he would have liked with the limited movement the confined space allowed for. Illya slowly felt round Napoleon's body and when his hands reached the left side of Napoleon's chest, the American let out a scream of agonising pain and slummed back onto Illya's chest. A bullet wound, it must not have hit anything important but there was a lot of blood. "Peril," Napoleon hissed with a pained croak in his voice. "If you wanted to cuddle, you could have just asked."  
"Not the time for your jokes cowboy," Illya muttered under his breath as he began the search for a way out of here.  
"All the time is a time for jokes," Napoleon replied through gritted teeth. Illya grabbed Napoleon's hand and pressed it against the wound, drawing out another cry of pain.  
"I need you to stay awake and press here. It will hurt," Illya explained as he kicked the roof with as must force as he could muster in the confinement. If he was out and had free range to move then this whole car would have been torn to shreds in minutes. He just couldn't build up the momentum.  
"Every, c-car has an, a, tail light wires. If, you might be able to, kick, out," Napoleon stuttered through intermittent shivers. Slowly Illya tried to feel which way was the back and which was the front. As he expected, to reach the tail lights he was going to have to kick past Napoleon, which was not a good idea when he had no idea as to the extent of his partner's injuries. But right now it had to be all about priorities, if he didn't get them out, Napoleon would die. He would not let Napoleon die on his watch; Gaby would never forgive him. And he would never forgive himself.  
  
With one fluid motion. Illya forced all of his honestly incredible might into that kick. He heard something crack, but no light entered the metal coffin. Napoleon was shaking with increased intensity and every other breath was catching in his throat. "Not long now Solo," Illya tried to comfort the dying man.  
"The, the cuddlin, ain't too bad," Napoleon mumbled softly, causing the anger to well up inside Illya once more. Napoleon was always guarded, if he was letting the walls down then he was in really bad shape. Even the jokes for a form of protection that made Illya believe his ally was going to survive this. One more kick and light flooded the boot of the car. Relief coursed through Illya’s body and he could feel the tension release from Napoleon’s frame.

“Its okay cowboy, you’ll be fine.”

 


End file.
